By Joey W. Hill
A narrative of 2 enthusiasts who couldn't be extra diverse. Daughter to an angel and a mermaid, Alexis has grown up in peaceable waters. So while her nightmares start, the mer-angel has little concept what to make of them. In her dream is the loneliest guy Alexis has ever met-and she's unusually interested in him. till the evening her dream comes true... Born of a vampire and a dismal One, Dante basically understands brutality. And even though he is the chief of the underworld, he longs to flee it. How higher than to carry for ransom the top Legion Commander's daughter? yet there is something Dante by no means deliberate on-the method Alexis steals his middle.
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Lex swallowed. "What . . " "Ssshh. " Though the child of extraordinary parents, Alexis realized she wasn't immune to the coping mechanisms of any kidnap victim. Trying to identify with her kidnapper in psychologically hazardous ways, feeling an empathy for him she shouldn't. But unlike other kidnap victims, empathy was her extraordinary ability. She didn't know if that would make her more vulnerable to the pitfalls of those coping mechanisms, or if it gave her strengths and defenses that would prove useful.
The somewhat slimy liquid was far from the fresh rush of water of her ocean, so with the blood removed, she was more than ready to get out. But then she thought of what he might want if he laid her in the bed. The traitorous tightening of her body alarmed her even more than his intentions. " "You said you did not want to be in the circle, and you do not want to stay in the pond. " She glanced at the large wooden chair. " "There's that. " Lifting her, he took her toward the bed. Curving her hand around his neck, beneath the strands of his hair, was the most obvious place to hold on.
Then she remembered his words. Bring me more blood. She recoiled. Whose blood was she in? Whose blood had provided the tracings for those brands on her flesh? He'd put his mouth on her, his hands, his . . Oh, Goddess. " she rasped, when he didn't seem disposed to speak first. He crouched on the outside of her circle. Unlike his fellows, apparently the caster could cross the edge. But when he did, reaching toward her face, she scrambled back, careful not to hit the opposite side, but making it clear she was not willingly going to allow him to touch her again.
A Mermaid's Ransom by Joey W. Hill